Niche

Another list of things to keep you quiet
Another horde to make your day subpar
I need to skirt around the sinking masts
Courtesy of a beverage named for a faded patriot

The snarl to keep some distance draws you nearer
No one leaves a scar unless they’ve truly earned it
In a sea of lambs it makes a nice change of pace
“Hey darling what’s your name” the message in my Stella
I spose the scowl can vacate to answer that
Just another kid ready for a scrap or two
It leaves a sour taste in your peers mouth
That malice can’t be passed unchallenged
But it brings intrigue to your eye
As bratty as a mutt, as loyal as a dog

I’m all the things you need, ain’t that obvious!?
…No, not really
Can’t you tell from the spit on my sleeves
Where they spat me back out from the taster?
A niche, in a niche, in a niche, in a niche
It’s a miracle your gaze got trapped for this long
I’m a believer, but I’m hardly resurrected
Revive the ego and I’ll make your dreams come true

What’s got you so surprised?
Your faith in other people is disgusting
Haven’t they treated you the way they treated me?
How can you think they’d see what you see?
Your hearts split between your eyes
Your soul hasn’t shrivelled up and died
You can sieve through the perceived lie
You know that words are pointless and speak with your thighs

I’ll give your sweat glands a run for their money
Leave your nerve endings black and blue
I’ll connect leather and flesh
In any context you desire
It’s the reward you deserve
When you pick the mutt from the wolves

Sebastian Noël

Out

I don’t wanna sound stuck up, but I gotta get out of here
My price tag overlaps the lot I find myself in
Not a class worth, but the value of the soul
I’m surrounded by corpses you see, in Sunday school

Colchester to Chelmsford to Southend
Not exactly the escape to New York City is it?
But it feels a substantial upgrade to fuck all
I can’t get on board with anyone here
Or maybe it’s better to say they’re not on board with me
And any previous investors are already hitting the trail

I’m under no illusions, course I’m running from myself
And the ghosts that constantly haunt me come Friday night
Haven’t the foggiest what I’m expect to find elsewhere
But maybe coming up with nothing is the better guarantee anyway

The vital stat re-roll, the pull of the slots
Maybe here people’s hearts are a slight ajar
Whatever their offering, hell I got the cash to spare
Maybe with a new head on my shoulders, things will be different
When the pain invades, they could materialize everytime!
Tongue will be parchment and a breach will cost
Cheeky to say, but maybe I’ll change in the same way
No ghosts, I’ll treat everyone right
In that way maybe I am different from the others
I come with no attachment to my current form, that shit’s gotta go

Sebastian Noël

Date In Castle Park

I arrive at the business transaction mostly on time
Arranged passively on a interchangeable messaging app
You make the radically mundane suggestion of a castle park romp
It’s too much to expect a curve ball at 23

The dice lands on a photography student
What else does steel caped boots and a Harrington produce?
Your hair’s a bath bomb shade of green and blonde
And your eyes reflect like monochrome
Undoubtedly captivating when equipped with a warm smile
We religiously obey the footpath
While I keep the hayfever at bay
“We’re victims of a London class based culling”
As she details how she came to be on this dirty great ‘ol hill
“I took this course because it’s my passion”
As op after op flew by, without a single shot being taken
Despite the 1,000 quid necklace you brought along
The sun transfixes her eyes, as she relays me with ambition
To make it back to London’s streets, or Brighton’s shores
Join the club hun, I’m sure we’ll all get there one day
You ponder about my candour
I’m not sure how to go about that
I’m a teacher in limbo
I’m a poet on standby
I’m the very definition of ‘pending’
I try to dress that up the best I can
But it’s clear I’m not getting anywhere
When that art’s not your art, when art’s not art
Then who cares?
“Can’t you play guitar” Bullet wound number 1

We take a very safe route round the park
To the benches, then to the hills
On our backs, then on our sides
Before you taste the toothpaste I used this morning
How many girls have I done this with?
How many boys have you done with too?
Did you wanna do that with me too?
Do I want you to? What do I want?
Do I want anything?
And if I do want, what’s that look like?
If I could peek into the future
Would it look anything like the past?
Would it look like me spewing white lies
Like I totally still listen to The Enemy!
Yeah…. Live and die and all that….

I take a fourth handful from the grass
As we start to veer around our guards
A troubled home, an absent dad
Apologetic prefacing from a Yelp ad
But then like the sound of a plane being shot down
She goes “Oh yeah my brother has autism too”
It’s time to dig that grave and cut your loses mate
Or maybe I’m waving the white flag to early
If Tumblr’s an indication, people are all about incest these days
But that’s an uphill climb regardless, and I’m out of heart
So to swerve by a handshake goodbye; I knock off early
Then take the scenic route home

Is this exposed heart bollocks for naught?
I like fun as much as the next guy
But the thought of letting someone in close proximity
Makes me a little sick to my stomach
But what kind of superhero am I expecting?
We’re all fucked in our own way
I just can’t stand the gamble anymore
Of ending up losing on beaming Saturday noons
Staring at the walls, flies populating my mouth
While I obsessively go over everything that went wrong
And rub ointment over my heart
All for the kind of empty people
That slap their cunts to Game Of Thrones
Who stroke their dicks to the Euro match
All without anything to say, nothing to show for it
Oh it’s not worth it anymore
If you told all your sweethearts to hit the road
And you hit 22 then your shit out of luck
Too aware to comply, too cynical to wonder
You’re the last kid picked for P.E

I don’t feel like dying again
I’m quite accustomed to feeling safe
So maybe I’ll abstain for another year
Not like anyone’s missing out

Sebastian Noël

The 4th Dimension – Part 2

We’re on the subject of eyes again
Cos they won’t stop looking
It’s always stare stare stare
Yeah stare stare stare stare stare
Maybe it’s high time I crossed back

Cos despite still residing in an invisible world
They cut through the 4th dimension anyways
Feel me in the same world they inhabit
They can’t understand what it is they found
But do they really want to know?
If I stepped back onto this world for them
Would they be disappointed by what they see?
Would they care about the real me?
They’d rather keep me a mystery I bet
Like the Sasquatch in the woods, or Nessie in the lake
Things are better kept legends
No need to spoil their illusion with fact

Cos no one accepted me in the 1st dimension
How am I to believe now would be different
Their content at staring at me
Like a freak in their favourite brand
Better to be alone in the 4th dimension

Lnc0

The 4th Dimension – Part 1

The 4th Dimension
It’s where I’ve been hiding for a very long time
To cower from any context looking to dilute
I’m barely holding together, the cracks glued by Pritt Stick
It’s safer to hide in the 4th Dimension

At the very least till my trail has gone cold
“How are you and…?” “Weren’t you with…”
“I ain’t spoken to you since….?”
I hide out of sight till they stop surveying
And those who look for me thin out
Then until they forget me
They might track me like lighthouse when I’m out
But I’m never really there
They can’t interact with that in the 4th dimension
So they stare, but remain still

But maybe it’s time I vacated
Back into a world where people do more then see me
I’m so scare of the scorn, the indifference
I want to believe however, I got to have faith
Someone wants me out of the 4th dimension

Lnc0

Strats

A cacophony of cheers and guffaw
With the bare minimum of effort
The meek clashing pints with serial killers
Like rain drops falling and grass growing
Insane in the eyes of the sane
But they’re in triple digits, while I remain with the one
That makes me re-evaluate my odds
Who’s the truly mad one here?

I weigh up all the dialogue trees
It’s never just ‘Howdy, how’s it going?’
They take to your honey coated wingspan
And suddenly thugs and lords are banging at your door
It’s probably best to ferment in the void
Treat my free time like crown jewels
So they see my appearance like a Bigfoot sighting
Keep the invitations a V.I.P basis

Lnc0

Intended Abstinence

It’s the wound I fashioned myself
From the knife I fashioned myself
A violent scroll through the system menu
As the lighthouse gaze shines my way
Your gorgeous and serene
Your tendency to loom shows your keen
We could step to a beautiful choreograph together
But the prospect is so sudden, so raw

My bags start to drag on the floor
Where phantoms and claws have prevented any rest
The GP’s notes on my file are getting longer
The list of substances taken is growing longer
That’s a lot for a Twisters regular to take on
When buried under Grungey Gary Model 2k16
I’ll excel beyond the mortal line sometime
But not yet, I’m not that well yet

Lnc0

She Paints

She paints, but there’s not much else to her
Least nothing she could find
No peak as you bypass the skin
No shocks when you feel the neuro
She paints, that much is certain
But what hooks could that provide?

She paints, but who else does?
And even when they do too
That’s no basis for a connection
She paints, but not like they do

She paints, but it’s the origin of isolation
“I’ve suplexed 9 condo’s into the lava
Then saved 6 magical girls from Satan
Before making my 3rd million at poker
But enough about me, what have you been up to?”
She paints, but that’s all she ever does

She paints, as she lets life pass her by
Absent from the pub
Absent from the gigs
Absent from the work due
And they all know where she is
No matter what the last minute text says
She paints, as she cowers from the window
She paints, but swallow regret all the while

She paints, when there’s no one around
No one can make the coffee date
“My misses has the day off work”
No one can join the shopping day
“My boyfriend wants to watch some movie”
She paints, but she has to wonder
Would it be so frequent with someone at her side?

She paints, she paints, she paints
She paints, the whole world away

Lnc0

The End Of The 4 Nights Of Hell

I’ve been kicked out of heaven
But I don’t belong here in hell
And limbos such a fucking bore
So I guess I got to keep on living here

Looking back on it all, back on these 4 nights
I can’t even remember what I was even looking for
I waved my hand out to the crowd
Looking for another soul to grab onto
And I found them, I found more then you could know
So many that the boys looked at me with envy
But anything I caught a hold of crumbled in my hands
Like blood flowing through my fingers
And I could feel the critters crawl up my skin
Everyone seems to enjoy it, so why can’t I?
Absence cuts through my sanity like a knife
But that’s pocket change in comparison
To the fallout when suspect entities draw near
I’ll take fucking anyone, but anyone’s not good enough
And every night just collapses right in front of my eyes
And I’m the only one occupying my space
I tore the IV from my arm in order to be free
But now I’m out here with all the control in the world
I’m just counting the days to be bound again
And that’s a cycle no one wants to witness

I want to spend every second of clear time
To polish and perfect my little creations
Maybe if I finally made something of worth
The right people would gravitate towards me
If I finally learnt the bloody guitar
People would want to be around me
But I just spend that precious time earned
Staring at a series of menus and profiles
Begging again and again
SOMEONE PLEASE BREATHE LIFE INTO ME!
No matter how I pray into the void
Nobody came

Whatever god is pulling the strings on causality
Won’t you hear my pleas and cries?
Let me break the barriers of mortality
Let me sprout wings, let me take flight
Cos the pain of solitude gets more overbearing each day
And seeing people all round me, progressing faster and faster
Hand in hand, with someone who wouldn’t dare let them go
When they find my dead body, they’ll say it’s that what killed me
I’d love to become a coward, just give up on it all
But I have an obligation to the lives I’ve touched
They’re looking at me with expecting eyes
And I hate coming up empty handed everytime
What can I tell you man? I can’t stop crying every night
Unless someone comes in, grabs me by the hands
Kisses me on the head and promises everythings gonna be allright

But I know for now the cycles due again
So suit up, make yourself look nice
Cos here comes the next 4 nights of hell

Lnc0

A part of the ‘4 Nights Of Hell’

It’s 2015 [W.I.P]

I mulled over a amusing sight on my box today
A perfect time capsule in the form of trash daytime sitcoms
A youth archetype slung out into the streets
Pushed into the career safari of the ‘real world’

What a stretch from a world only 20 years since
Those who crave for success and for glory
And those who crave the sunlight and the air
Can never exist in tandem, never again

Cos it’s 2015, daddy dearest
And we can only grab success, stuck in our cages
Cos it’s 2015 Mummsie
And now a day spent in Vitamin D is a day wasted
Cos it’s 2015 Grandaddyo
And I’ve never felt more social then on the inside
Cos it’s fucking the 3rd of August 2015!
And an existence outside: now a sure sign of slacking off

– Lnc0